


Wash Away (Yr. 1947)

by prubun



Series: Memories [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nationverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29652114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prubun/pseuds/prubun
Summary: Little streams of water traveled down, curved alongside his nose, down his lips, then dripped off his chin. His body was shivering — a detail Ivan missed at first, but now could feel Gilbert's teeth chattering and saw how his body shivered and spasmed from the cold./In April of 1947, a sick and feeble Gilbert began to live with Ivan, placed under his care and supervision.
Relationships: Russia/Prussia
Series: Memories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483235
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Wash Away (Yr. 1947)

**Author's Note:**

> ** [Posted: February 23, 2021] **
> 
> I was inspired to write some angst. This was originally only supposed to be a drabble at like 500 words, but...yeah.

Ivan often woke up during the night due to different reasons. Sometimes it was a nightmare, other times he just had to use the bathroom. Tonight, however, there was an intense storm rolling over his home. Everyone else seemed to still be asleep, or that what Ivan thought until he made his way to the kitchen. Just off the foyer to the kitchen, he saw that one of the back doors was slightly ajar, the loud pattering of the rain very audible from his position. Ivan peeked outside, the cold chill of the night making him shiver, yet the fresh scent of rain calmed him. At first, he didn't see anything, but a bright flash of lightning lit up the sky and he saw a person sitting in the middle of the pavement. A few meters out from the porch, sitting cross-legged, head down, his white pajamas completely soaked through with rainwater — was Gilbert.

Stepping outside, Ivan just watched him for a moment, the rain dampening his own clothes as he stood about 3 meters behind Gilbert. Then he stepped forward. If Gilbert heard his footsteps, Ivan couldn't tell; Gilbert made no movements to show otherwise. Walking in front of Gilbert still caused no reaction in the man, so Ivan took a deep breath.

"What are you doing, Gilbert?" he asked, his voice cold and confused. There was a pause, another flash of lightning, the thunder a few seconds behind it, then Gilbert looked up but did not reply, just stared at him, almost _through_ him. Leaning down, Ivan gently held Gilbert's chin between his thumb and forefinger and looked over his face. Surprisingly, Gilbert didn't flinch at the touch. Little streams of water traveled down, curved alongside his nose, down his lips, then dripped off his chin. His body was shivering — a detail Ivan missed at first, but now could feel Gilbert's teeth chattering and saw how his body shivered and spasmed from the cold. The man looked like a ghost, his cheeks were sunken in, eyes drooping with dark circles under them; no one had been sleeping well lately but least of all Gilbert. Ivan noticed how red and puffy his eyes were and realized that he must have been crying. The thought that maybe Gilbert came out here to cry seemed dramatic but not unlike something Gilbert would do, or maybe it was to hide that he was. "Why are you out here?" Ivan asked again, this time softer. Gilbert remained quiet for a bit longer but finally, his lips quivered and he spoke.

"Washing... Trying...the blood..." Gilbert stammered and lifted his palms up, staring at them. "I can't get it off..." 

Ivan looked down at Gilbert's hands and watched them shake. He was unsure if it was fear or from the cold or both, but Ivan felt compelled to take hold of them, so he did. Gilbert's fingers were freezing and wet, thin to the point of easily feeling the bones inside. Ivan held him as if he was a delicate flower that would crumble, closed his fingers around them, and rubbed his thumbs against his knuckles.

"There's no blood, Gilbert, you're clean," Ivan told him, but he barely finished before Gilbert began to shake his head frantically.

"No— No no no—" he stammered and stumbled back a bit, pulling his hands from Ivan's. "Your blood is here too— Everyone... It's all over me..." He clutched his arms tight and shook, gritting his teeth enough to make his jaw hurt. Ivan moved closer and put his arms around Gilbert's body, pulled him to him, and shushed quietly. Gilbert didn't pull away, so Ivan slipped one arm under the man's legs and then lifted him up into his arms. He knew he had to get Gilbert out of the rain; needed to find him some comfort.

Ivan's lips parted with the urge to say 'It's okay,' but he knew that the sentiment would be partially empty; nothing was okay but even with his own hurt, it was hard to watch Gilbert destroy himself. 

He brought Gilbert back inside and took him up to his room. Ivan's room was larger than everyone else's; it had a full desk, a couch, and a king-size bed. Carrying Gilbert over to the couch, Ivan placed him down and Gilbert slumped against the back cushion. Ivan watched the other for a moment before he went to the connected bathroom to his bedroom. Inside he grabbed two towels, draped one over his shoulder, and then returned to Gilbert. Gilbert hadn't moved a centimeter, although Ivan hadn't expected him to. When Ivan came over to him, Gilbert titled his head slightly, his eyes following up Ivan's torso, but the instant their eyes connected, Gilbert closed his. Ivan inhaled and sighed out heavily, dropped one towel over Gilbert's head, then began to gently dry his hair.

It was silent and that almost made it worse. The softness of Ivan's touch was like a burning iron to Gilbert's gut and it filled him with guilt and shame. His shoulders raised, his body shaking again, teeth grit tight.

"Why?" Gilbert choked out, his voice cracked and strained. "Why are you being so nice? After what I—?" he begged to know. Ivan took another breath, his chest tightening at how broken Gilbert's voice was. After a moment, Ivan pulled the towel off of Gilbert's head and gently dapped it against his cheek, wiping away the water, then dropped it on the couch beside him. He knelt down in front of him and placed a hand on the other's knee, the fabric of his pants damp under his palm.

"I don't like when people cry," Ivan spoke softly. Whether Gilbert believed him or not was unimportant. Ivan held the hem of Gilbert's shirt. "You should get out of these wet clothes, you know you're prone to getting sick—" Gilbert slapped his hand away.

" _Don't—!_ Treat me like a child!" Gilbert snapped, his eyes fierce, expression angry, yet it didn't hide how hurt he was. Ivan watched him in silence for a few seconds, knowing all too well that the kindness was something foreign to him but something he desperately wanted; he wondered if Gilbert knew how obvious he was

"I'm treating you how you need to be treated," Ivan told him and again grabbed the hem. 

Despite the disgruntled, defiant grimace on Gilbert's face, he didn't resist further and let Ivan pull his shirt up. He lifted his arms and Ivan peeled the rain-soaked shirt off his skin, leaving it feeling clammy and damp, the air chilly it and making him shiver.

"Sorry," Ivan apologized and suddenly grabbed the hem of Gilbert's pajama bottoms at his hip, pulled, and yanked the back out from under his butt. Gilbert grunted and twitched. He realized that Ivan had taken his underwear with the pull and just as his privates were exposed, he grabbed the towel next to him and covered himself. Ivan ignored it and finished removing Gilbert's pants, then placed them with his shirt. Since Gilbert had taken his towel to cover himself, Ivan used his own to gently wipe Gilbert's legs down, making sure not to touch too far up his thighs as he was unsure of how Gilbert would react and he didn't want to make him think he was trying anything weird with him.

Ivan's hand slipped down Gilbert's calf held at his ankle, and just stared into nothing for a moment. Gilbert's skin felt so cold; so much like death. Emotions were difficult for him. Part of Ivan was angry with Gilbert for betraying him, but the other part of him that was so deeply in love with him still couldn't allow himself to stay mad, and seeing Gilbert like that was heartwrenching. As Ivan dried Gilbert's skin closer to his foot, he noticed how red and raw Gilbert's toes were, and wondered just how long Gilbert had been sitting out in the rain, freezing, punishing himself.

Suddenly, Ivan leaned down and gave a feather-light kiss to Gilbert's ankle. It was impulsive, he didn't even realize he'd done it until his lips had lingered there for a few seconds. He felt like a fool and expected Gilbert to slap him away again for being strange, but when his worried eyes glanced up to meet Gilbert's, all he saw was confusion twisting his face and the soft glow of color on his cheeks. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Ivan stood up, apologized quietly in Russian as he scratched his cheek for a second before turning to his bed. He dragged one of the throw blankets off and returned to Gilbert to drape it around his body. Before Gilbert could question it, he grunted as Ivan scooped him up into his arms, then dumped on the large bed almost as quickly as he was lifted. 

Ivan's body language was still odd, almost anxious; his hands were quick and shaky when fluffing the pillows and moving the heavy duvet back. Gilbert would be lying if he said he wasn't endeared by it but that only confused him even more. He still felt wary around Ivan; it wasn't long ago that Ivan was furious with him and now he was weakened, dying, struggling to keep healthy, and living with the man who should hate him the most. Ivan's rage was warranted and Gilbert expected it from him, so when he didn't get it, it almost hurt more. Maybe that was his form of punishment.

"You can rest here for tonight," Ivan told him firmly, trying to make it sound like an order but there was distress and confusion on his face as well. Narrowing his eyes, Gilbert tugged the blanket around his body more.

"Why? I can go back to my room, I don't have to stay here—"

"Please Gilbert," Ivan interrupted him and then bit his lip. "Just... Stay here tonight." Ivan's brows furrowed tight above his worried eyes that were aimed off to the side, not keeping eye-contact with the other. Gilbert didn't want to stay. He wanted to run; he still felt that twist in his gut of fear and guilt, worried that Ivan would snap at him despite the timid expression Ivan was wearing. Gilbert suddenly made a move to get out of the bed but Ivan reacted fast; he grabbed his shoulders and easily forced the weakened man down, pinning him to the bed and gritting his teeth as he scanned over Gilbert's face. "I told you to stay," he reiterated. Gilbert had no strength to resist him; even just flexing his arms did nothing but hurt himself, but that didn't stop him from struggling even if only a little.

Little droplets of water dripped from Ivan's still-soaked hair and fell onto Gilbert's face. At that moment, Gilbert realized that mixed in with those droplets were tears. That caused him to stop struggling and he was mystified by what he saw. It was unexpected and shocking and neither moved; just stared into each other's eyes for what felt like ages. Ivan was the first to break when he realized he was still squeezing Gilbert's shoulders.

"Ah, sorry, I'm— Sorry—" Ivan stammered and then sat up. He rubbed at his eyes and sniffled, also realizing that he was crying and felt foolish for letting Gilbert see him like that. Gilbert watched him for almost a minute as Ivan collected himself; he saw how distraught the man was and realized just a little of how he felt.

"I'll stay," Gilbert broke the silence, agreeing to stay as he turned onto his side, then tugged the duvet over his body. The warmth was frustratingly comfortable, but the worst was that relieved smile on Ivan's lips. The Russian didn't say anything else but nodded in acceptance. He reached out toward Gilbert, but then stopped when his hand was about to touch Gilbert's hair. He knew he shouldn't touch — shouldn't show too much affection even if his heart ached to.

"I'm going to change, so please...just stay here," he begged and slowly turned to walk to the dresser. Gilbert was quiet as he watched Ivan gather up dry clothing to wear, but as he began to walk to the bathroom, Gilbert spoke.

"I'll stay," he reassured. When Ivan turned to look at him, Gilbert was wrapped up, the duvet pulled up to his face to hide most of it, and if Ivan could see it, he had an incorrigible pout on his lips that he was purposely hiding; even in his angst, he still was stubborn and hated acquiescing to someone. Ivan smiled a little, thankful and finding relief in his words, nodded to then made his way to the bathroom.

Gilbert sighed as soon as Ivan was out of the room. He felt the urge to run — to go to his room and lock the door, or run back out into the rain. A bright flash of lightning lit up the room, startled him, and he pulled the blanket over his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He was not an easily frightened person, but he felt terrified and alone. The connection between Ivan not being near him and his sudden fear was not one that Gilbert wanted to make, but deep inside he knew it was true. Ivan had always been a rock over centuries prior; he always seemed to know what to say even when he was just as lost. He had been there to save him from death many times, and now he was doing it all over again. Ivan didn't have to take care of him or provide him with shelter; he could have left him to die as everyone else did, or tortured him as soon as they got to Russia, but he did nothing of the sort. When Ivan was around, Gilbert always felt a sense of calm even when he expected rage from him. 

The loud crack of thunder made him curl up in anxiety, clutching his cold arms in his shaky hands. He wanted to hide, wanted everything to be quiet, his stomach felt sick and the urge to vomit crept up, his breathing became shallow and rabid and his anxiety spiked. In his panic, he threw the blanket off and stumbled out of the bed, but as he did, Ivan opened the bathroom door and saw him there, nude and bracing himself on the wall, a hand covering his mouth.

Ivan recognized the terror in Gilbert's expression and went to him. Carefully he held him, giving him enough room to escape if he needed to, but Gilbert leaned against Ivan's body and clutched his shirt in his hand.

Not saying a word, Ivan led Gilbert back to the bed, laid him down, and tucked him in so he could warm up again. Gilbert refused to make eye-contact, embarrassed and ashamed of his pitiful actions. He felt so helpless, a lack of control over his entire existence, and he didn't want Ivan to see it. Ivan leaned down and kissed Gilbert's forehead, shocking Gilbert out of his self-wallowing

"Tell me if you need anything," he told him and sat back up, stood, but felt a tug on his hand. Looking back, Gilbert had grabbed him, his face twisted into a fearful grimace, eyes begging.

"Stay," Gilbert pleaded and it broke Ivan's heart. His eyes welled up and he nodded, gently taking Gilbert's hand and squeezing it, then climbed onto the bed beside the other. He got under the covers but left enough room for Gilbert to have his space, but was surprised and a bit flustered when Gilbert moved closer to him and curled up. 

Ivan watched him in wonder, but another crack of thunder made Gilbert flinch. It was a new fear that Ivan had never seen in Gilbert before and it concerned him. Slowly he pulled the blanket over Gilbert more, keeping him nice and snug in it, and then draped his arm over him. As conflicted as Ivan was about many things when it came to Gilbert, he couldn't keep himself from helping him when he was so desperate for affection. In a way, helping Gilbert helped Ivan as well — finding someone to care for, to comfort, it was something Ivan craved and he needed it himself. 

As Gilbert curled up like a cat beside him, Ivan tightened his arm, silently promising to protect him.

**Author's Note:**

> **Hey! Thanks for reading!**   
>  **If you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a comment 💕**
> 
> I saw [**a drawing**](https://twitter.com/mirin_yari/status/1362731151077478403/photo/3) on Twitter of Prussia covered in water and that's what sparked this one shot. The drawing has no relation to this fic whatsoever, isn't in the same historical era, and isn't even in such an angsty theme. Somehow just seeing it sparked my inspiration though and I decided to write Gil being all angsty and broken out in a thunderstorm.
> 
> **Notes:**  
>  •I wanted to write something from Ivan's perspective, or at least center the writing on him a bit more. Gilbert is my main boy and I realize I tend to make him the center point a lot. For this, I wanted to focus on Ivan and show how he was feeling toward Gilbert, his conflicting emotions, how he's still angry but just can't stand to see Gilbert so broken. I also wanted to show that while Gilbert is suffering and is confused, he still has a bit of fight in him, but desperately wants to be protected, which goes into another headcanon of mine that I might write about one day. We'll see.  
> •In my discord server, we talked about Gilbert considering living with Ivan after the war as a self-punishment, his penance, and how of everyone, Ivan would be the most likely to hate him, so Gilbert would accept whatever punishment Ivan saw fit. I think I unconsciously pulled from that idea as I was writing the parts about Gilbert putting himself out in the rain; since Ivan wasn't giving him any punishment, he brought some onto himself because he felt he deserved it.  
> •Ivan kissing Gilbert's ankle is kind of symbolic of his love for him. Ivan can't _not_ love Gilbert, even if it's just a little. He has always loved him, so this kiss was like him saying 'I'm yours' but in a very 'I'm your servant' kind of way, if that makes sense.  
> •Gilbert letting Ivan strip him is also a huge sign of trust, or his defeat. Who knows 🙃  
> •This fic kind of shows the "first" moment where Gilbert's fear of storms comes into play. It's a small headcanon I've had for years but have never really explored or found the "spot" that it originated from.  
> •The headcanon about Ivan needing to protect and care for people/Gilbert is loosely based on [**this headcanon**](https://now-thats-an-oof.tumblr.com/post/642750772901216256/heres-my-hot-character-take-for-ivan) by the wonderful @now-thats-an-oof on tumblr.
> 
> **—**
> 
> **Social links:** <https://linktr.ee/prubun>


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